


The end of a prophecy, the beginning of something new

by JessARober1501



Series: A life worth living [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:28:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28189989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessARober1501/pseuds/JessARober1501
Summary: In the immediate aftermath of Tom Riddle's death, Ginny Weasley is forced to confront her own grief at the loss of her brother and the apparent death of the man she's loved since she was a little girl.
Relationships: Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: A life worth living [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2065131
Comments: 10
Kudos: 5





	1. The overwhelming tide of grief

Professor McGonagall should never have been able to make such an earth-shattering sound, and it barely registered through the numbness that had settled into Ginny Weasley’s very being. Not only had she lost her brother Fred, but now the man she’s lost the man she’s loved since she was a little girl. It was now obvious that the disturbance she felt when she was helping that poor, mortally wounded, girl was Harry sneaking by her in the invisibility cloak. But she didn’t investigate further and that stupid, _noble_ , git had gone off to the woods to sacrifice himself in the name of all that was good.

Even though Voldemort had told them he was dead, it didn’t prepare her for seeing _his_ lifeless corpse in the caring arms of Hagrid. Ginevra Weasley didn’t even notice when she screamed his name into the void that was the uncaring world. Nor did the grieving teenager notice when everyone else screamed too. All she could hear was the gleeful voice that cracked through the cold morning, “ _Harry Potter is dead._ ”

It crushed her very essence.

Somewhere, in the back of her conscious, she noted Voldemort’s frantic pacing in front of Hogwarts’ defenders. She could see his mouth moving, but none of his taunts or words registered. All she could focus on was the mess of black hair attached to the corpse that laid at the feet of this hideous being. It was hard to understand it all, one of the few things that had kept her sane during the tortuous months at Hogwarts was the fact that after Harry had fulfilled his destiny, they could have a life together…a life that was worth living. But now that was gone, along with her brother and laughter. It felt like her entire world had ended and there was no point in her moving from this very spot.

When Neville was forced to stand in front of Voldemort, Ginny Weasley did not notice it; nor did she notice it when the sorting hat was forced onto his head and then lit on fire. What did catch the 16-year old’s attention was a glint of something steal, the falling of two separate black objects, and then absolute chaos reigning down on the group that had gathered before the castle.

Where there had once been battle lines and groups of people fighting each other, there was now nothing of the sort and no easy way to tell friend from foe. The castle walls once again shook with the force of spells being cast as the defenders were seemingly forced back towards the Great Hall. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Charlie appear seemingly out of nowhere to join the fight. She was even surprised to see Kreacher make an appearance to defend his fallen master; the battle seemed alive as groups split off. Death eaters were falling rapidly as members of the Order, the DA, and students who fought for the light fought back brilliantly. None of the curses fired off by the Death Eaters or the Dark Lord himself were hitting there marks or sticking for very long. At the back of her mind, Ginny began to wonder if Harry’s sacrifice was protecting them like his mother’s sacrifice had protected him on that horrible Halloween night.

That thought didn’t have long to fester as she suddenly found herself dueling alongside Hermione and Luna against the maniacal Bellatrix Lestrange. It was finally something for her to truly focus on as she dodged her spells while also trying to leave plenty of space for her friends. The duel was intense, and Ginny could feel the heat building around the fighters as curses and hexes were shot in every which direction. Then, without warning, a green light shot within inches of her…she almost wished it had hit her so she could be with Fred and Harry. Molly Weasley, on the other hand, was determined not to lose another child...another family member in the wars against this murderous man and his followers. Several swishes of Molly Weasley’s wand, and an overconfident Bellatrix Lestrange left an infuriated Tom Riddle alone in the middle of the Hall. Ginny was astounded as Riddle’s anger forced Kingsley Shacklebolt, McGonagall, and Horace Slughorn out of the fight; but she failed to notice as that he turned his anger to the two red headed women near Bellatrix's body. 

In the end, it didn’t matter as Tom Riddle was never able to fire off a curse or hex in their direction thanks to a disembodied voice that called out “ _Protego_ ”.


	2. The Savior of the Wizarding world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom Riddle has been defeated and Harry is somehow alive.

_Harry’s not dead._ The thought was rattling around Ginny’s mind as she leaned against her mother near Fred’s body. Since Tom Riddle’s body fell to the flagstone floor of the Great Hall, she’d felt nothing short of electrified. Somehow Harry had convinced Riddle that he was dead, then he’d bested him in a duel by using a simple disarming charm. None of this made any sense in a vacuum, but her life had made absolutely no sense since her first year.

 _Harry’s not dead._ But she has no idea where he has disappeared to. Last she saw him, he had been sitting over by Luna. Then she caused a distraction and he slipped away; looking around the Hall, it was also clear that her youngest brother and Hermione weren’t present either. _Where have they slipped off to this time?_ Before that thought could fully register, her mother caught her attention. “Ginny, dear. Do you need anything…”

“I’m okay mum,” the way Molly’s voice shook rocked Ginny to her absolute core. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Just stay close sweetheart.” The younger woman felt her mother’s arm wrap tighter around her shoulder as Molly stared vacantly at the smiling body in front of them. _Fred’s death should hurt more._ But her body doesn’t seem to get the message, as it’s still tingling with electricity that wasn’t there 10 minutes ago. Harry’s survival, and subsequent victory over his lifelong archnemesis had given the 16-year old a heady high that nothing had yet to break entirely through. The noise in the Hall began to turn into a dull roar when a set of doors behind the Head Table began to open, two members of the trio were walking into the Hall and they were holding hands.

“Just like you Fred,” a croaky whisper to her left says. “Anything to squelch out of a bet you knew you shouldn’t have made.” The lackluster joke from George brought everyone within earshot to a standstill. Ginny looked at her older brother with a mixture of surprise, amusement, and pity. The approach of Ron and Hermione was missed by all but Molly.

“Oh, I’ve missed you both so much.” The Weasley matriarch engulfed her youngest son, and all-but adopted daughter in bone crushing hugs. “Where is Harry?”

“He went for kip Mum,” Ron answered as he went over to hug George. “We haven’t slept in nearly two days.” The reunion with Ron provided just enough distraction for Hermione to slip a note into Ginny’s hand. The messy scrawl was easily identifiable.

_I’ll be in our chair in the common room, if you want to talk. – Harry_

She smiled as she reread the note. “Mum, I think I’m going to go on a walk to clear my head.” Molly nodded while fussing over the two members of her family that had been missing for the last nine months. Ginny had to stop herself from sprinting out of the Hall, it wouldn’t do any good to draw attention to her or to where she is going. The delivery of the note made it perfectly clear to her that Harry wanted some time to talk and talk privately after the battle; something that was going to be nearly impossible if people thought she knew where he was. 

_Harry’s not dead, right?_ The familiar path up to Gryffindor Tower was scarred by spell damage and debris, which allowed doubt to well up from the darkest part of her mind. _Voldemort had clearly thought Harry was dead, and his body sure was limp when Hagrid brought it out…how the hell had he fooled everyone that was in the Forbidden Forest into thinking he was dead?_ _How can he justify making ME think he was dead?_ Without warning rage began to build inside the youngest Weasley as she climbed up the stairs, which fortunately weren’t moving. Her emotions were swinging wildly and her brain was having trouble processing it all. Despite all of that, her body continued to tingle at the thought of seeing him again; maybe even kissing him again.

“He’s waiting for you.” The Fat Lady’s voice pulled Ginny out of her thoughts; as the portrait swung open she realized Harry probably asked her to let her in...which was a good thing, considering she didn’t even think about asking for the password. After a moment of hesitation, Ginny stepped into the portrait hole.

Once she was inside, she found _him_ curled up in their favorite chair by the fire, which was roaring. A piece of parchment that she couldn’t quiet make out was draped across his lap as he snored softly. His face was gaunt and his cheek bones stuck out prominently, there was dried blood and dirt streaked liberally across it; several cuts were present, as if he’d had plowed face first into a rose bush. The messy head of hair, that she loved, was caked with dirt while a few twigs stuck out of it. But damnit he was alive, and he was the most beautiful thing on the planet at that exact moment in time.

Slowly, hesitantly, Ginny made her way over to the love of her life; once she arrived she carefully folded the parchment – a map of Hogwarts that she’d ask him about later – and set it under the chair quietly. Gently she climbed into his lap before wrapping her arms around his neck. She could feel the shallow rise and fall of his chest against her, his pulse against her arms as she wrapped them around his neck….he _really_ is alive and survived the final battle. And that’s when the damn broke.

Sobs wracked her body as the emotional turmoil of the last 30-odd hours came to ahead. There was nothing Ginny could do to stop it, she wanted to so that he could sleep…but she couldn’t.

Harry jumped a little in his seat at the noise, but the familiar flowery sent and mane of red hair pressed against his chest helped him relax a little. Without a second thought, he closed his arms around the sobbing girl on his lap and started to rub her back. “It’s going to be okay Gin.” His voice cracked as if it hadn’t been used in years, instead of minutes. “I’ve got you. I’m here for you.”

“Y-…y-…yo-…u’re really a-a-a-live?”

“I am Gin, I’m he-“ The rest of that sentence was cut off by her hand firmly slapping him across the face. “HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO ME HARRY JAMES POTTER? HOW COULD YOU MAKE ME THINK YOUR DEAD?” Then her lips crashed to his before he got a chance to respond. It was a desperate kiss, one looking for assurance. Assurance that he attempted to provide while holding her tightly against him. Eventually, she had to come up for air.

“Merlin Gin, I missed you so much.” Their eyes locked on each other; the tear tracks evident on both their faces. “I wish I didn’t have to put you through that, but I _had_ to die so he could die. So that this could end.”

“You really died out there?”

“I did,” Ginny watch as he ran his hand through his hair, showering them both in dirt and twigs. “I’ll tell you everything over the next couple of days; I’m not going to hide anything from you, not anymore. But I need you to know, right here and now, that I was given the option of moving on to be with my parents, Sirius, and everyone else I’ve lost…or coming back. And I chose to come back to yo-“For the second time since she’d sat down in his lap her lips crashed to his. This kiss was full of passion and desire.

“Gin, I’m so tired…” He whispered against her lips when they paused for a breath. “I’ve missed you but I need sleep right now.” She nodded quietly before gently laying her head onto his bony shoulders. Within minutes they both fell asleep, holding tightly onto each other; as if they were afraid their reunion was a dream.


	3. Some pieces just fit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny and Harry get some time to reconnect as the rest of the castle hasn't entirely noticed their disappearance from the Great Hall.

Ginny Weasley was a little surprised when she woke up still lying on Harry. She was even more surprised when a look at the windows around the common room showed it was the late evening. It appeared that no one had disturbed them, and she couldn’t figure out why; while she loved her brothers, they can be overprotective _gits_ at times and there was no way in _hell_ they were going to let her sleep on a boy’s lap willingly. It doesn’t matter that this particular boy had been their seventh brother for the last six years…or that he’d just recently defeated the darkest wizard in a century.

Ginny looked around the room and realized that there was absolutely _no one_ else in there and that the fire had slowly gone out. The realization startled her.

She wanted to investigate the reason, but she also didn’t want to get out of Harry’s lap. After the last nine months, she was never letting go of him again…no matter what her mother had to say on the subject. But that didn’t explain _why_ Molly wasn’t here, right now, lecturing her about being proper or fussing over Harry. That being said, the youngest Weasley also knew that if she was to _properly_ investigate where her mother was she’d have to get off of his lap _and_ she was not willing to do that. Fear had her convinced that if she let go of him, or left him alone, he’d disappear as if his survival was a figment of her hopeful imagination.

Harry began to stir underneath the youngest Weasley; but it was clear, once she looked into his eyes, that he wasn’t awake. His eyes were scrunched up, his face was a pinched in agony and he was whimpering in a panicked manor. Ginny reacted by gently pressing her lips into his forehead and whispering soft words of comfort to him. This seemed to help as he settled down; which led to Ginny (once again) falling asleep with her head laying on Harry’s shoulder.

***

Down in the Great Hall, Molly Weasley was in a near state of panic. Her only daughter and practically adopted son hadn’t been seen for hours. She needed to make sure that Harry was really alive, the pain of losing one of her children was compounded by the site of Harry’s lifeless body in Hagrid’s arms. While Ron and Hermione had assured her that Harry and Ginny were safe, she needed to see them both…what she really needed was a chance to fuss and mother them. Afterall, that was her best coping mechanism, aside from baking.

“Mollywobbles,” Arthur’s soft whisper cut through her panicked mind. “I think it’s safe to assume that Harry and Ginny need some time to themselves.” Her husband always seemed to be able to read what was on her mind, especially when it came to their family…unless their children were messing with one of those infernal Muggle contraptions he had charmed.

“Why do you mean?”

“Didn’t you hear her when she thought Harry was dead?” Arthur asked softly, “It sounded as if her very soul had been ripped from her body. I think….I think something shifted in their relationship during Harry’s last year at Hogwarts.”

“What?”

“Just, remember how awkward they were around each other one Harry was rescued from the Dursley’s?”

“Yes, but that…”

“And how close they had gotten the summer before?”

“How did I miss this Arthur?” Molly’s voice was hollow.

“Let’s give them some time to catch up,” The Weasley patriarch whispered gently as he wrapped his arm around his wife. “We all need to get some rest anyway. It’s been far too long since you’ve gotten any sleep. I’ll watch over Fred.” Slowly, but firmly, Arthur led his wife away from the body of their child.

***

On the steps outside of the Entrance Hall doors, Hermione Granger was busy comforting her boyfriend of less than 20 hours. The end of the battle, the death of Fred, Remus, Tonks, Colin, and the apparent death of her best friend/brother in all but blood Harry Potter had driven her spare. But she knew that she had to be there for Ron. She knew that the pain she was feeling was different, but manageable, compared to the pain the lengthy redhead leaning against her was feeling. “Do you think they’ll get back together?” Ron’s hoarse voice was muffled against her shoulder.

“Harry and Ginny?”

“Yeah.”

“I hope so Ronald,” She said with a small smile. “They’re good for each other. And they’ll really need each other to make it through the next few months.”

“As long as they don’t snog in front of me I’ll be fine with it.” She could feel his smile against the fabric of her shirt.

“Honestly, Ronald.” A small smile played against Hermione’s lips as she leaned down to kiss the man she had loved since she was 15 on the top of his head.

***

His chest muscles felt like they were on fire. That was the first thought to come into his mind as he woke up in that familiar chair. The next thing he thought of was the familiar flowery sent that he had associated with the witch he couldn’t imagine his life without; Ginny Weasley had been his motivation for fighting, and when the time came for him to die so that Tom Riddle would have one less Horcrux and so that she could have a life without that _bastard_ in it…well, that was motivation enough. But goddamn, his chest hurt.

The reality is that he knew he should have had Madam Pomfrey examine him as soon as he had gotten some rest, but he didn’t want to be confined to an overflowing Hospital Wing. It would have made it impossible for him to say what he needed to say to Ginny. So he’d ignored a nagging Hermione, and asked her to give Ginny a note before he dragged himself up to Gryffindor Tower to wait. Their reunion had been quick, but better went better than he could have imagined it. “Harry, are you hurt?” _Damn, she noticed._

“My chest feels like it’s burning a little.”

“Let me see it.” There was a hint of Molly Weasley in her daughter’s voice. Harry felt Ginny climb off of his lap, and then he felt her hands slide under the hem of his shirt. “Gin, I-“

“Quiet Potter,” Ginny was still gingerly pulling his shirt up. “If I know you, and I do, you’re going to try to hide this injury from everyone. And I’m not going to let you hide anything from me anymore.” He didn’t get a chance to respond as the tattered shirt was pulled over his head revealing a chest that was black and blue, with multiple cuts on it and some dried puss up near his collar bone. But the most prominent mark was a brand-new lightning bolt shaped scar to the right of his heart. 

With a shaky hand, Ginny outlined the scar over his chest. It was one thing to hear him say that he’d died…but it was quiet another to see the visceral mark that the killing curse left on him, _yet again_. “Oh Merlin, Harry…” She attempted to take a steadying breath. “I take it that Madam Pomfrey hasn’t seen you yet?”

“No-“

“Nevermind,” A small smirk played across Ginny’s lips. “Let me guess, you feel that your injuries aren’t too bad and you can handle it?” The wizard’s silence was enough for Ginny to know she was right. She conjured up her corporeal Patronus and sent off a message to the matron.

“I had to do it, you know.” Harry said softly, his head never really leaving his chest. It looked worse than it felt. “I had to let him kill me.”

“Why?” Ginny said softly, “Why is it always you?”

“Do you remember the prophecy from the Hall of Prophecies?” With a from Ginny, Harry continued, “It was made to Dumbledor by Professor Trewlaney. It said ‘ _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives..._ ’

“When did you find out?”

“Right after we got back from the Department of Mysteries…I might have destroyed Dumbledor’s office in a fit of rage.” This led to a snort from the redheaded witch as she took Harry’s hand and squeezed it. At that point, Harry began to tell her everything. From Dumbledor’s private lessons about this past and history of Tom Riddle; up to him getting Horace Slughorn’s unaltered memory about Horcruxes with a little help from liquid luck. When he admitted to bumping into Ginny, while he under the cloak, as he snuck out of the portrait hole, she started laughing. “That was _you_ who caused that row with Dean?” She asked between laughs. “That row is what led to us breaking up! I guess luck really was on your side, eh Potter?”

His story was interrupted by the arrival of Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall. “What happened to your chest, Harry?” The Matron’s eyes looked suspiciously bright as she quickly made her way over to them. Her hand gently reached out and squeezed Harry’s shoulder, as if to make sure he was really there…alive.

“I got hit with the Killing and the Cruciatus Curse while in the forest, Madam Pomfrey.” He looked down because he refused to look any of the witches in the eye.


	4. A combination of ancient magics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny encourages Harry to explain what happened in the Forbidden Forest so that Madam Pomfrey can have a clearer idea of the injuries he sustained at the hands of Tom Riddle and his followers.

_The silence was echoing_. Harry was distinctly uncomfortable as Madam Pomfrey began preforming diagnostic spell after diagnostic spell. Professor McGonnagall had collapsed into the couch opposite from Harry and Ginny, while Ginny was squeezing his hand so hard it was going numb. But the most disturbing thing, at least to the wizard, was the fact that Pomfrey wasn’t clucking her tongue or lecturing him about being reckless; after all, those personality ticks had been frequent during his previous visits to the Matron. “So, am I fit as a fiddle Madam Pomfrey?”

“Harry,” She admonished softly. “You’re severely malnourished, you’ve got three cracked ribs, a couple of torn ligaments, and an untold number of strained muscles.” The Boy-Who-Lived was too exhausted to argue with the matron.

“Did you really get hit with the Cruciatus?” Tears were streaming unabashedly down Ginny’s face as Harry tried to reassure her with his one free hand.

“Yes,” Harry said softly. “That was after Narcissa Malfoy lied to Riddle and told him I was dead.”

“Are you saying that Mrs. Malfoy lied to V-Voldemort?” That statement was too much for Minerva.

“Yeah,” Harry looked at his former Head of House. “She wanted to verify if Draco was still alive. After Riddle threw the Killing Curse at me, he wanted to make sure I was _actually_ dead this time. She came up to me, felt my heart beating then asked me if Draco was still alive in the castle. Once I confirmed he was, she told everyone I was dead.”

“Then what happened?” Pomfrey asked as she started to heal the cuts on his head.

“Riddle started tossing me around the forest, when he wasn’t hitting me with the Curciatus. After he got bored of that, he had Hagrid pick me up for the march back to the castle. You all know what happened after that.”

“But how did you survive the Killing Curse again, Harry.” The uncertainty and fear in McGonagall’s voice caught him off guard. To the 17-year old, it’s like she refused to believe that he was actually in front of her alive. “And why the _hell_ did you go into turn yourself into him when we were here fighting for you?”

Harry took one look at Ginny and realized that he wasn’t going to get out of answering this question. “If I answer this question now, it’s going to jump quiet a bit ahead in the story of the last two years.” He whispered to her, with the lack of noise in the common room it was clear that the two older witches heard him as well. With a squeeze of his hand, Ginny replied. “Madam Pomfrey needs to know love, it might help with her healing.”

“Do either of you know what a Horcrux is?” He asked softly. Poppy and Minerva responded with a blank look. “It’s incredibly dark magic, a wizard or witch splits their soul and stores it in an object. As long as the Horcrux exist, they _cannot_ die…even if their body is destroyed.”

“And V-Voldemort made a Horcrux?” Madam Pomfrey was horrified. “How does one split their soul?”

“Murder” Harry whispered softly before continuing. “And Riddle didn’t just make one Horcrux, he made seven; six of them were made intentionally.”

“And the last one?” Ginny whispered as she looked at the man she loved. The 16-year old witch was beginning to realize _why_ Harry had to walk into those woods to his death.

“He made it on accident when he murdered my Mum.” The room was so quiet, you could have heard a quill drop. “When my Mum voluntarily sacrificed herself for me, his soul split again. The fragment he accidentally created that night latched itself onto the only living thing it could find after the Killing Curse rebounded.” Absolute silence descended upon the room as the weight of what Harry just said sunk in.

“Just to be certain,” Madam Pomfrey whispered. “It latched onto you?” At the nod from Harry, the Matron sat down on the couch next to him.

“I was the accidental Horcrux.” Harry looked at the first woman to truly take care of him (that he remembered) when he was injured or sick, “It’s why I’m a Parsaltounge. That’s why I had to sacrifice myself to Riddle. I _had_ to die so that he could be defeated.”

“But that doesn’t explain how you’re still alive.” McGonagall whispered, horrified at what the young man was saying.

“When my Mum died,” Harry took a deep breath. “She was given the option to stand aside, Snape had begged for her life to Riddle once he realized that I was being targeted. She refused to stand aside; she made the decision to protect me with her last breath.” A shuddering breath from Poppy interrupted Harry’s story. “By sacrificing herself out of her deep love, she invoked ancient blood magic that protected me from the Killing Curse. It was this blood magic that allowed Professor Dumbledor to erect powerful blood words around Aunt Petunia’s house…that’s why I was placed there and had to go back every summer. When Riddle returned to his body after the Third Task of the TriWizard Tournament, he used _my_ blood in order to complete the ritual. That decision was made so that he could get around the blood magic my Mum invoked when she died; it also, inadvertently, tied me to him. As long he lived, my soul _could not_ pass on at Riddle’s hand…at least that was Dumbledor’s theory.”

“HIS THEORY?” Ginny’s shriek of indignant rage was evident on the older too witches. “AND WHEN DID YOU FIND OUT ABOUT THIS THEORY OF HIS?”

“After I died.”

“WHAT?”

“He and I had a nice chat in King’s Cross after I was hit by Riddle’s Killing Curse.”

“You really died?” McGonagall sounded almost fearful as she asked this question.

“The only way to destroy a Horcrux is to destroy the object beyond magical repair. So yes, I died in the Forbidden Forest…I _had to_ so that Riddle could be defeated. But, because of a combination of ancient magics – and quite a bit of arrogance on Riddle’s part – I was able to come back instead of passing on.” The silence that followed Harry’s story stretched on; in fact, it stretched well past the point of being comfortable as the three other occupants of the room absorbed what they had just heard.

“You’re quiet a unique case, Mr. Potter.” Madam Pomfrey ended up breaking the silence. “There’s not much I, or any Healer, can do to ease the pain the Killing Curse might be causing you…but I do have several potions for the aftereffects of the Cruciatus, which you will need to take regularly. I’m also going to reach out to a Healer at St. Mongos to get a bruise salve that might help the swelling go down.” She walked over to him, than gave him a gentle hug. “I’m happy you’re still with us Harry.” The normally stern Matron’s voice was full of emotion as she whispered in his ear; but in the blink of an eye her stern professional persona was back. “Miss Weasley, I need you to make sure that Harry takes these potions twice a day. Once at breakfast and once at dinner. Understood?”

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey.”

“Excellent,” A small smile crossed her lips. “I’ll let you know when I hear from my colleague at St. Mongos about the salve.” She walked across the room to the portrait hole, before turning around and nodding at Harry. The next thing anyone knew, she was gone in the blink of an eye.

Professor McGonagall was looking into the smoldering embers in the fire, and didn’t notice when Ginny climbed back into Harry’s lap. She gingerly laid her had on his shoulder again before she started to sob again. It was hard for her to take in everything that Harry had been through in just the last 12 hours; and she didn’t even know the complete story of how Tom Riddle was brought down. Hell, the only Horcrux she knew about – for a fact – was her boyfriend. Then a sickening thought entered her head as she began to remember her first year at Hogwarts, and everything surrounding that _damn_ diary. “Harry,” she whispered into his shoulder. “Was the Diary from the Chamber a Horcrux?”

“Yeah Gin,” He kissed the top of her head before pulling her into a tight, comforting hug. “It was.” Her body wracking sobs began again, Harry worked to comfort the redheaded witch on his lap. Neither of them noticed the acting-Headmistress get up and leave the common room…thus she gave the young couple a chance to comfort each other.


End file.
